Temptation to Sin: Satan's Calling
by elle dit oui
Summary: Four moments where Chuck Bass is calling Blair Waldorf in various ways. B/C. Oneshot.


**Temptation to Sin (Satan's Calling)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Gossip Girl.**

**1.**

She's seventeen today and she decides to redo her birthday wish. She tells God and his priest/genie that as a birthday present, they could stop the effing phone from ringing. It was six o'clock in the morning, for Christ's sake! The phone stops and she sighs in relief. Turning over and curling up comfortably on her bed, she closes her eyes to get back to sleep when the phone starts bawling again.

_Ugh, did that priest suck or what?_

She rolls irritably out of bed and stalks over to where her phone is being loud enough to rival a rooster. The names flashing on the screen of the mobile increases her irritation.

Chuck.

"What the bloody hell do you want?"

She snaps into the phone. Save the good manners for someone who would appreciate them. Blair can almost see his amused face over the phone lines.

"Did you move to England?" He asks and she almost growls.

"I wish because right here, where I am in New York, it's six o'clock, Bass. What do you want?"

"I couldn't sleep." He says matter-of-factly. "And I wanted to ask you something.

"Shoot." She answers sarcastically.

He chuckles amusedly at her morning attitude and continues.

"I was wondering if you got anymore orders from the Man Above or would you join me for breakfast this time."

"Was that your question?" She asks crankily.

"One of them. Yes or no, Waldorf?"

She hates him and this time, a diamond necklace was not getting him off the hook.

"The clock's ticking, Blair."

Was there some way of telepathically killing someone? Where could she learn it?

"If I have phone sex with you, will you leave me alone?"

She asks resignedly. There was a pause over the phone and she wondered if he was considering her offer.

"Well, that answers my second question."

"What?" she says confoundly.

"I was going to ask if there was going to be a repeat of last night."

He explains smugly. "But I'm taking your offer as a yes. See you tonight."

Sounding self-assured, he hangs up promptly.

"Asshole." Blair mutters to thin air before jumping back into bed.

She needs her energy for tonight.

**2.**

"Miss Blair, Mister Chuck here."

Blair breathes out slowly. He wasn't supposed to be back from his Thanksgiving with Bart in L.A. for two days. If something had gone sour, she didn't want to hear the sob story. It wasn't like her Thanksgiving had been something Jesus had planned.

She marches purposefully down the stair, ready to tell him off if he breaks into a heart-wrenching and tear-jerking story of uncaring family and hurt feelings. She could just write a memoir instead.

"You're not supposed to be here for two days. What happened? Why are you here?"

She demands and he just stands there, looking entertained at her reaction.

"What a heartwarming reception. Why on Earth would people call you the Ice Queen?" He comments sarcastically.

"Nothing's wrong, Blair. Do I really need a reason to see my..."

He stops, unsure of what she is to him.

"The girl I'm sleeping with." He finishes finally.

Her eyes narrow suspiciously.

"There has to be a reason."

He shakes his head and opens his mouth to smarmily deny it, but he can begin, she cuts him off.

"Tell me or you can change it to the girl you used to sleep with."

He stares resentfully at her before he realizes that this is what he loves about her.

"I missed you, ok?" He admits.

Her eyes softens and a smile graces her lips. She grabs his hand and pulls him up the stairs, into her bedroom.

Pushing him onto her bed, she commands.

"Show me just how much."

Well, she needs something to give thanks for.

**3.**

She hisses at him to leave her alone and he doesn't say anything, just leans against the wall as if it's the most comfortable thing on Earth.

"Are you adding stalking to your list of hobbies? Because I would have thought blackmailing was bad enough."

He tilts his head to study her face and she tries to look disdainful and uncaring. He laughs and she tugs on a strand of her hair in frustration.

"You definitely wouldn't makes it as an actress."

He states calmly and her blood boils. She shift uncomfortably and sends him a dark glance when he still doesn't move.

"Go find a dummy to hit on. They'll love your pickup lines."

He just smiles at her.

"Words hurt, you know Waldorf."

She taps her foot uneasily against the carpeted flooring, cursing the fact that this stupid store had to decide to be quaint and have only _one_ changeroom. Why the hell was Chuck here anyways, it was a _ladies_ store? Well, she always did have her doubts until she caught him humping Georgina Sparks in a coat closet. Traumatic incident of 2003.

Anyway, if the fat old woman hogging the fitting room didn't decide that her chubby ass didn't fit in a size 6, Blair was going to do something that would result in a another visit to the confessional and a STD cline (just to be safe).

"Only if you take them seriously."

"That's why Serena's so happy-go-lucky. I always wanted to know the secret to eternal happiness since it's so attractive to Nathaniel."

She grinds her teeth and if she didn't love this dress so much, she would have stormed out of the store. How much longer could the woman be? Even she could fool her size 12 self much longer.

"Nate prefers Snow White to Rapunzel now."

"I heard, he was never really good at climbing, prefered bar stools."

She tries to avoid looking at his emotionless face. It's a lost cause and her eyes flicker to his, just once, then a second time and after the third, she launches herself to him and when their lips meet, Nate and his stupid barstools are forgotten like Humphrey's alcohol preferences.

Moments later, the heavy forty-year old exits the fitting room, debating between Jenny Craig and Weight Watchers already. She trips over a single designer heel left in the hallway and sniffs comtemptously. Someone was eager. Really, she had only been in that room for about 20 minutes.

Meanwhile, in the storage room across the hall, clothes were ripping, lips bruising and Blair's Waldorf's back pressing against the closed door of the storage room, her legs wrapped around Chuck Bass's bare waist, his pants around his ankles.

Shopping will never be the same again.

* * *

**4.**

"Blair! Blair! Stop, please!"

She hears him yell to her in the airport termininal, ignoring the astonished shushes of the people around her, and Juess, he's running which would normally make her giggle, but nothings really funny right now.

Before turning around the corner in the boarding gate, she throws him a smoldering yet pissed off look like a femme fatale from an overly dramatic action movie leading a man into a gunfight or explosion. That would be nice. But nope, no terrorists.

She's sitting on a plane bound to Paris waiting for take-off. The seat beside her is empty or so she thinks before someone plops down extremely rudely beside her. She turns, an annoyed expression ready on her face when she realizes who it is. Annoyed turns to furious.

"You're fucking persistent, aren't you?"

An elderly man in the seat in front turns around with a shocked face and clucks his tongue disapprovingly at her.

"That's no way for a young lady to talk."

He chastises and she dismisses him.

"Times change, things change. Face forward please."

Blair flashes a polite smile before turning to Chuck whose face is wearing an amused expression.

"You like persistence in a man."

Yes, she does, but she's always made exceptions for him. No exceptions in exceptions.

"Any man but you."

"Grumpy after a long flight?"

He asks sympathetically and her jaw clenches dangerously.

"No, but then I got _off_ the plane and received a call from your stepsister saying you've disappeared into your room with a girl."

"Your trust in me is gratifying. Serena has less brain cells than an ant."

The way her eyes close tell him that it's not a good time for best friend jokes.

"I knew you couldn't change. If you wanted to alienate me, all you had to do was be yourself. Unkind, cold, uncaring."

"Don't put me on a pedestal, Waldorf." He tilts his head apprehensively. "I redecorated."

The look on her face is disbelieving and he smirks, handing her a glossy photo.

"Bigger, sturdier bed. You'll like it."

"You ditched me for mattresses and headboards?" She snorts. "You are one crappy prince."

Just imagine if Snow's Prince had rode off to tend the palace flower beds. It would just be another story of a comatosed model from drug use.

He's off the hook and Chuck's smirk widens.

"I hear Paris has some great castles. We could move in, Princess."


End file.
